How to Marry Your Frenemy - London Casey Page 0,39

to go get laid and you ended up married. And still didn’t get laid.”

“It’s not that simple, Misha.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“Listen to me here,” I said. “There’s money behind this.”

“Money?”

“Yeah. This was Vince’s idea.”

“Of course it was,” she said. She crouched and picked up her notebook. “You’ll seriously do anything to prove Vince and Jackson wrong, won’t you?”

“And get one million dollars in the process,” I said.

“What?” Misha yelled.

“That’s what’s at stake here,” I said. “I’ll accept your apology anytime…”

“Okay, fine, sorry,” Misha said. “Keep going.”

“Not sure there’s anything else to say,” I said. “Vince threw the idea out there and we ran with it. We both want to prove each other wrong. We both want money. So… you know, maybe we have some things in common here.”

“That’s the basis of your marriage? Hatred and greed?”

“Misha, it’s not a marriage,” I said. “It’s for show. So you better keep your mouth shut about the truth. This is between us. If anything gets fucked up here, the bonus is gone.”

“Right. Of course. You know me. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“I know you will. I just need someone to know the truth. Because out there” - I pointed to the office window - “I have to let him touch me, kiss me, and act like we’re together and in love. It’s all for show.”

I caught myself repeating that phrase in different ways.

All for show.

Just for show.

It’s for show.

Misha just stared at me.

I gave it a few seconds.

“Say something here,” I said.

“I’m just listening,” she said.

“You have an opinion.”

“Oh, I do.”

“Let me hear it.”

“You don’t want my opinion.”

“You think I’m crazy,” I said.

“Yes.”

“You think I’m going to end up getting hurt or something.”

“Definitely.”

I slapped my hands to my desk. “I’m not going to get hurt. I’m going to get money. I’m taking care of myself, Misha. Look at this company. Look at this world. This isn’t some TV show or some feel good story, okay? Sometimes you have to be vicious to get what you want.”

“I’m not judging you,” Misha said. “I did need to talk to you though. About something that-”

“See, you think I’m crazy for this,” I said as I stepped from behind my desk. “But you know what I just showed Jackson and Vince? That I’m capable of anything. Without me, they are both lost. They both know it. They thought they were going to put me on the spot…” I laughed. “Jackson wanted to go to a strip club. He thought I was going to chicken out. Guess what? I had more women all over me than he did.”

“Callie,” Misha said.

“And then Vince wanted to get tough. And stupid. That’s right. Tough and stupid. Waving around seven figures like it’s a chore for him. Get out of here with that.”

“Callie,” Misha said again.

“Just wait until-”

“Callie!” Misha yelled.

I shut up.

“Sorry,” she said. “But I need you to be quiet for a second.”

“I am quiet now,” I said.

“We have to talk about someone else.”

“Who?”

“Derrick,” Misha said.

She cringed.

I cringed.

Who was Derrick?

The guy I was kind of involved with.

“Oh, I don’t want to hear that name right now,” I said.

“Too late,” Misha said. “He’s sort of looking for you.”

“Let him look,” I said. “I’m not hard to find. Let me guess… he called you?”

Misha opened her mouth.

I kept talking.

“Of course he did. He’s another one. He was good for one thing. And even that wasn’t all that good. He was usable. Serviceable. Got it?”

“Yeah, I know,” Misha said. “You always told me he was convenient. I just haven’t heard his name in a while. And I can tell you haven’t had sex in a while too.”

“What?”

“You’re a bitch when you don’t get some,” Misha said. “No offense.”

“I’ll agree with that.”

“And now you’re married,” Misha said. “Fake married. Is sex on the table?”

“With Jackson? No. Nothing will ever be on the table with him. I’m fine. I’ll get my bonus, get a divorce, until then I’ll take care of myself.”

“Okay, but Derrick is-”

“I can take care of Derrick,” I said. “I haven’t seen him in, I don’t know, three weeks or so. He thinks we’re in this relationship. That’s only because he’s getting what he wants from me. This is the perfect thing for him. He calls or I text and we meet up and fuck. Then we barely talk and go our separate ways. You know how I met him, right?”

“Yes…”

“He thought I was his date from whatever dumb app he was using on his phone,” I said. “He was bold enough to